She is awoken by voices,
She is alone.
In a strange place
She calls home.
Echoing off the walls,
In the midst of silence found,
They who have no name,
Each of their words resound.
She hates the silence,
It’s when they are so loud.
Whatever noise she can make
To ward off absent sound.
There is a voice she fears above most,
The one who, from the silence, boasts.
She hates his persistence.
She is insistent that he leave.
She fails and fails and fails again.
Any other voice from the din!
The many shout at her,
She does not give in.
But the one quietly calls,
From behind a door that’s cracked open
When the others leave.
He calls to her, her fears.
Things forgotten from across the years,
And then she remembers why
They were pushed aside.
Then in her heart
She deeply wishes the voices to depart.
And she hears
So softly in her ear,
“You will believe us absent, asleep,
You will rejoice in your soul deep.
You will forget what I tell you now
And you will remember each time we return our sound
You, in your fear, may not belong,
And we will never truly be gone.”
She closed her eyes,
And awoke alone; or so she was told.
She rose to the window,
And thought the sun too bright to be this cold.
Posted in From the shadows
Tagged alone, awoke, bright, cold, echo, fear, forget, gone, hate, home, loud, place, poem, poetry, remember, resound, silence, sleep, soul, sun, voice, window, words
Shall he remain fallen cold, buried here?
The various pains of living follow him.
And waking up to a grey sky so clear,
A midday light beyond the moon grows dim.
They were followed here, this is nothing new.
They know better than this untrodden path.
Before them, those that followed, they were few,
Fewer still who returned. Dim: this light past.
After they will break as water on rock,
They will scatter as shadows in the light.
Here the new headstones do nothing to block.
Various pains drive residents to flight.
I’ll dream of things unspoken, rest undone,
In my shallow sleep gift under the sun.
Posted in Sonnets
Tagged buried, dim, fallen, follow, grey, Moon, pain, path, poem, poetry, rest, shadow, sky, sleep, sun
Woke up to the sun,
Like any other morning.
At the same time, not.
Follow me into the light
The sun would lend you anyway.
“Tomorrow’s gone, now have no fright.”
The foggy morning says.
Were I to ask you what the night
And moon and stars would say,
Do not answer if you do not know
I musn’t know today.
Continue on the path with me
And soon I will show
What you’ve been waiting for,
But you must wait until the flowers grow.
Spring to summer, summer to fall
Follow me and we’ll go
With our questions, searching for answers
While we wait for winters snow.
Posted in Time
Tagged answer, Fall, flower, fog, Moon, poem, poetry, snow, Spring, star, summer, sun, wait, winter
This is the day that light dies alone.
So far away, yet close to home.
For home in nothing resides a shadow,
Of the path that leads to it. What can I do?
In wonder I gaze at stars above.
In wonder I look around.
The sun with dead light beats down.
A day of dead light is hardly day at all but time.
In times passing behind nothing, before it, void.
Light dies alone in past tense, and in its future bed.
It’s only alive in this moment, hope with it in our head.
I will not gaze behind me to find it true: all what I’ve said.
Daylight dies alone and I, now can finally see,
That I am not the one that light calls company.
Posted in Time
Tagged alone, day, dead, dies, hope, light, nothing, path, poetry, sun, time, void, wander
A call from wind and windings within
And tangled bellows show,
What was prized above all else
The mirrored echos towed.
All through the mire of the night
And dawn awaiting there,
No stops for me, my love, mustn’t tarry
Beside the roses in still cold air.
The morning sun may catch my back and bathe me in its light,
My face on and forward, forgetting previous nights.
Several days have found me searching,
Wandering through the fog and waters.
Every path is just: ‘one more turn’
Every turn, a dead end I’ve followed.
Until the morning I awake to the bitter taste of real.
And the ocean of oblivion I long to pull you from,
In vain to bargain with echos your memory fading becomes.
I will wake one day no longer, and before that day comes,
It will be as I remember.
Beside the roses in the sun.
Posted in Love
Tagged bellow, echo, fog, found, love, morning, night, oblivion, ocean, path, poetry, roses, search, sun, tangled, tarry, wander, water, wind
Where these waters lead,
It would seem
Today they lead to colder streams.
They’ve more than one destination, I’ll concede,
This just one stop of many
Before we reach the sea.
Today colder streams,
Tomorrow ice-rent seams,
Where these waters become too cold to flow.
In the valley of the moon,
Dawn can’t come too soon,
To free us from our temporary tomb,
And sun shines on more sun-filled shores before we reach the sea.
This is where these waters lead.
Posted in On A Positive Note
Tagged dawn, destination, ice, lead, Moon, poetry, rent, sea, seams, stream, sun, valley, waters